


Golden Train

by stardivarius



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardivarius/pseuds/stardivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One thing she knows for sure, is that her love for you is deeper than any root or stone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“That is ridiculously unhealthy for you.”

 

Gabriela Dawson looked up from her bowl with a frown. She was rather pleased with her concoction.

 

“There’s fruit in here.” She said with a smirk. And there was. There was a bit of sweetened dried apple; most likely jam-packed with preservatives, but _fruit_ nonetheless.

 

Leslie didn’t understand how her friend could manage to eat something so hideously terrible for her health. Surely she understood the basic food pyramid. She recalled learning it every year at school since she could decipher between an apple and a bag of chips.

 

“It’s also five-thirty in the morning.”

 

Gabriela pondered Leslie’s words for less than a second and pulled a confused face.

 

“So?”

 

Leslie Shay rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her blonde hair to straighten out the invisible knots, and then promptly messed it back up. It was completely dishevelled from after her routine eight hours of sleep and an everyday brisk stroll around the block and back. Her usual walk around the block after religiously stretching before leaving and coming back, would have taken at least a good thirty minutes. But seeing as Gabby had decided to accompany her, she realised her friend had an underlying motive. To give them both heart attacks.

 

“It’s a heart attack in a bowl, Dawson.”

 

Gabriela looked deeply pained.

 

“It is my finest work of art, and if you cannot accept that, then you must leave my kitchen.”

 

Leslie rolled her eyes. Of course Gabby held the utmost sincerity about her questionable culinary skills. Gabby had, in one way or another, succeeded in getting Leslie’s practiced morning routine from thirty minutes down to fifteen. She not only got them back to their apartment in half the time, but also, conceived some sort of unreasonable culinary creation. Leslie sighed.

 

“This is technically, my apartment.”

 

Gabriela scoffed and raised her spoon at her friend in what she believed was a threatening manner. Leslie mused to herself that if Gabby hadn’t been lecturing to her about the importance of having M&M’s, maple syrup and chocolate milk accessible in her their apartment at all hours of the day earlier, she might have actually succeeded.

 

“Just taste some!”

 

Leslie stared at her friend trying to decide whether or not to take her seriously. She must’ve pulled a face because Gabby’s dark eyes got impossibly wider and her mouth turned downwards into a frown. _Fine._

 

“I’d rather kiss you than eat that, honestly.” Leslie shrugged.

 

A shit-eating grin made its way across Gabriela’s face. Leslie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

 

“You’re saying you’d kiss me?” she smiled roguishly. Leslie scoffed. Any sane person would rather kiss Gabby’s dumb face than eat that monstrosity. _Duh._

 

“I’d rather not get food poisoning, thank you very much.” Gabby punched her friend’s arm. But Leslie dissolved into uncontrollable giggles leaving her to scoff indignantly.

 

“Get back here!”

 

Leslie darted behind Gabby, narrowly missing accidentally hip-checking the corner of the granite counter top, blonde hair flying wildly behind her. Unfortunately, Gabby slammed straight into the corner and doubled over, squealing in pain.

 

Leslie froze.

 

“Oh baby,” she whispered kneeling over Gabby’s form.

 

“I’m dying,” Gabby groaned, grabbing the front of Leslie’s shirt and pulled her closer before closing her eyes dramatically. Leslie pressed two fingers against her friend’s throat and made a noise of approval.

 

“We have a steady pulse,” Leslie murmured, blonde hair falling across Gabby’s face, “but the patient must eat healthily so she isn’t such a clumsy, little idiot!” she continued pinching her friend’s cheeks. Gabby swatted slender fingers away, a light pink filling in where it had been pinched. 

 

“The patient wouldn’t be in pain if her friend had just given her a chance,” Gabby said prodding the blonde’s side. Leslie yelped in surprise.

 

“Fine. I’ll taste your heart attack food.” Leslie rolled her eyes.

 

Goddamn it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing she knows for sure, is that her love for you is deeper than any root or stone.

Leslie took a deep breath and sighed shakily. It was the goriest thing she had ever seen, and she had watched plenty of horror movies to last her three lifetimes. She sneaked a glance at her partner and noticed that she was almost as dazed as herself; albeit she had to give Gabby credit for keeping a relatively believable poker-face. However, she knew Gabby better than she knew herself sometimes. And while she would reluctantly admit it, Gabby knew her inside out and then some. Gabby probably knew how hard Leslie’s heart was pounding.  

 

_Those people._

 

She didn’t know how to mentally prepare herself for a mass accident. She never knew how to do those things. She had never ever seen one this horrific. And she was scared shitless.

 

“W-well. Um. I-I think we should go. Right. Go. Do. Mhmm. Yep-”

 

“Shay.”

 

“Gloves. R-right. Um. Keep em’ talking. Yes. This is – I mean – we should – go? Right. Yes. No. What’s our-”

 

“Shay.”

 

“Should we wait? I mean – Severide’s still with. I guess we should. There’s enough of us-”

 

Gabby picked up a glove that had fallen out of Leslie’s trembling fingers and easily guided one shaking hand through it. She could feel Leslie’s pulse quickening through her wrist.

 

“Hi.” Gabby said with a small grin.

 

“Hey.” Piercing blue eyes turned to meet hers.

 

“You’re okay.” She said softly trying to reassure them both.

 

Leslie took a deep breath.

 

“I’m okay.” She hated how uncertain she sounded.

 

“Good. Let’s get em’.”

…

 

“Hey there. What’s your name, little guy? Leslie asked hoping her voice wouldn’t break.

_So young._

 

“I’m Leslie, and that’s Gabby over there.” She pointed at her partner who was busy snipping through another patient’s clothes and speaking in a soft, soothing tone. Leslie was still amazed at how calm and rational Gabby was.

 

The boy in front of her looked quite young. No older than nine at most. Dark, messy brown hair that she suspected stayed that way all the time. And huge, round chestnut coloured eyes that matched his hair. He looked remarkably like a boy she knew from the second grade. She wracked her brain for a second trying to recall his name.

 

“I’m not little!” He scoffed indignantly trying his best not to cry. He weakly pulled at his barely distinguishable blue shirt. It was streaked crimson. She couldn’t begin to imagine the injuries he had received. Leslie willed herself to continue speaking while gently pressing two fingers to the boy’s neck, not unlike she had with Gabby hours earlier.

 

“Sure you are, I mean, you’re tinier than Dawson.” She continued with a wink. Gabby feigned anger and growled passing over a pair of scissors.

 

“Hey! My name is Owen. I’m almost nine. I’m not little. I can be in little league with my brothers next summer!” A weak grin spread across his rapidly paling face. His huge eyes were shone bright with earnest. He trusted her.

 

“Owen, buddy. You gotta keep your eyes open, alright? Want to play a game? I’ll name my favourite baseball players startin’ with Chase Utley. Your turn.” Leslie said. No no no no no. Not this boy. For God’s sake, he was going to live damnit.

 

“I really like Reggie Jackson. I feel really tired though, Leslie. May I close my eyes? Just for a bit.” he muttered sleepily.

 

“No Owen, you have to stay awake buddy.” Leslie glanced desperately at Gabby who was still busy with her patient and fought to keep her tears from blurring her vision. She turned back to face her young patient and he smiled weakly. 

 

“Am I dying, Leslie? It’s okay if I am, you know.” He said blinking heavily. Although he spoke softly, his voice was even and unwavering. He pulled at his shirt again and let out a pained groan. He blinked and stared at her. Those eyes. _He trusted her_. She needed to do something.

 

“No you’re not, little guy. You still gotta play in Little League, remember? Don’t you want to play anymore? I’d love to watch you play a game.” She said, carefully cutting through his blood-stained jeans. She bit back a string of curse-words as she saw the mangled limb up close. She sucked in a breath of oxygen and steeled herself to continue.

 

“I don’t feel like playing right now.” He murmured, his eyelids fluttering as he spoke.  

 

“Stay with me, Owen! Eyes open, okay? We’re going to play baseball!” she whispered frantically. She lifted his tanned hand to the back of her neck stupidly wanting his heartbeats to match her own. His hands were like ice. Leslie’s heart was pounding so hard, she could swear that it had moved up to be the ridiculous lump in her throat. She swallowed a sob and blinked tears away. No. He was going to be okay. He’d play Little League and she would watch a baseball game of– 

 

“But it hurts. Only for a-”

 

“Owen? Hey buddy? You’re going to be alright. Eyes open, okay?” His trusting chestnut eyes met with her blue ones and she desperately hoped that her fear wasn’t showing. Leslie manoeuvred the scissors through the boy’s shirt with fast and careful movements. He was going to be okay.

 

Her heart shattered at what she saw. There was unquestionably, no way. But she had to. He trusted her. _Those eyes._ Owen’s eyelids fluttered slowly.

_God please._

 

A ridiculous memory ran through her head. His name was Oscar. The boy at her school. She suddenly recalled his name.

 

Oscar _. Owen_.

_Huh_.

 

“Hey Leslie? I can’t-” His jaw went slack. Small fingers loosened from the soft grip on the back of Leslie’s neck and dropped limply to his side. _No._

 

His eyelids fluttered closed. She needed to see those eyes again. They trusted her.   

 

“No.” Her voice became thick.  “No. No. No. God no. Please! Owen?!”

 

She softly pressed two fingers to his throat and prayed for a pulse. She didn’t even believe in God what the fuck was she doing. She didn’t know how to do this praying _thing_ , she highly suspected that God put her on hold or something. She made a mental note to ask Gabby to teach her how to do this praying thing right.

 

“Owen?”

 

She swatted furiously at hot tears streaming down her face. He had to be alive. He had to. He trusted her. It would be stupid if he was dead. She promised him a baseball game.  

 

“Owen please. Stay awake for me, please?” She ran a gloved hand through his messy hair. She hated how shaky and scared she sounded. It was like being a rookie all over again.

  
She pressed her index and middle fingers to the underside of his knee. Nothing.  The edge of his groin. Behind his knees. The inside of his wrist. The inside of his elbow. _Absolutely nothing._ She paused for a second. She uselessly hoped that under his foot she’d find a tiny beat. _Nothing_. She anxiously pressed her fingers to his throat again. _Nothing. Nothing. Nothing._  Her heart growing hopelessly heavier with each discovery.

_No._ He was going to live damnit. He had to.

 

“Shay.” Gabby appeared by her side and had already gently, untangled the scissors from her slender fingers.

 

“But he was going to – and the baseball? H-his name is O-owen. H-he was going to be wonderful. He was going to be a baseball superstar. H-he-”

 

“Shay.” This time Gabby removed the gloves from her hands and tossed them into a sterile bin, throwing her own in afterwards. Almost mechanical movements throwing away used equipment into the bin again.

 

Leslie was in a daze.

 

“I told him to stay awake. Why didn’t he keep his eyes open? He was going to be okay!”

 

Gabby tugged a white sheet over the little boy. Those damn eyes. She turned to face the blonde with a solemn expression. Despite having treated several patients between them before Owen, Gabby didn’t have a hair out of place. Her mouth set in an uncharacteristic straight line. Her perfect eyebrows furrowed.  Dark eyes shining with what Leslie hoped wasn’t tears.

 

“We don’t get em’ all, tiger.”

 

“I couldn’t – and he was – h-he had a-”

 

“Shh.”

 

Gabby pulled Leslie towards her and wrapped her arms tightly around the blonde’s waist. She felt shaky arms circle her and hot tears on her neck. It was hot and uncomfortable and sweaty but Leslie had never felt safer.

 

“We can’t get em’ all, okay? But we try really hard to. You did nothing wrong. You almost got him to play baseball.” She whispered almost playfully. Leslie sniffed and tried to speak but all that came out was a garbled mess of incoherent words and strangled sobs. Gabby pulled her impossibly closer.

 

“Shh.”

_She tried._ And that was enough. 


End file.
